


Requiem of the Fallen

by lesboinspace



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alphys crushing on Undyne, Alphys definitely has loads of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie merch, Alphys is trying her BEST, Nice Cream, Royal Guard cameo, Which route is this? Up to you, depictions of anxiety/PTSD so proceed with caution dearies, mentions of Undyne and others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2019-10-17 15:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17563550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesboinspace/pseuds/lesboinspace
Summary: Panic attacks and soul-crushing depression balanced with barely enough hope to get through it all.  This is just your average day for Alphys...until a human arrives in Hotland.[My fic for LOVE: an Undertale zine on Tumblr/Twitter]





	Requiem of the Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> This my fic for LOVE: an Undertale zine!  
> I'm also on Tumblr with the same username~ c:  
> Here's the Tumblr link for the zine if you'd like to check it out:  
> undertalezine.tumblr.com  
> We're also on Twitter @undertalezine :D

Sorrow slithers out of the bathroom door before it shuts, spinning its way around Alphys’ main lab. A decimated ship descends further down her stomach, sunken by the anxious bubbles inside. Alphys holds herself, doing what she can to keep from shattering. Whirlpools thrash within Alphys’ chest as she grips her sleeves.

Pieces of the scientist start to scatter from the source like a cracked mirror. Alphys senses her remaining stability slipping away, unmendable sins seeping out the colors of a vessel poorly kept together by a scarred soul. She’s falling as her victims have, she’s melting into a beast, she forgets how to breathe–

Another panic attack wracks Alphys’ bent frame. She crumbles to the floor, body dropping in tandem with fresh tears. Each encounter with the forsaken monsters rips the Royal Scientist into countless chunks. Every time she sews herself together again, the weaker her stitches become: a twitch or two in her fingers have developed into trembles that shoot up her arms, caring little about the needlework long as it reattaches her torn pieces. 

If she’s not completely broken, she can work. This task is all that Alphys exists for. Pleasure or total lucidity are not necessary factors. The scientist has lost count of how many times she’s reminded herself of this fact, yet she still insists on fighting it. Wiping salty streams off her face, Alphys begins to rise from the tiles, choking on a sob and feet unsteady. 

Maybe happiness is selfish and more than she deserves, but to avoid any joys requires an internal resolve that Alphys isn’t equipped with. Surely Undyne has no problem with cutting away everything that isn’t relevant to her arduous objective, especially when it impacts everyone in the Underground. 

Another plastic noodle cup exits her microwave, destined to join its empty siblings overrunning the Royal Scientist's desk. It takes Alphys too long to peel off the lid, her fingers still infected with mild tremors. When she finally succeeds, the scientist’s lips perk up at the small achievement. An airy laugh escapes her throat. Alphys is taken aback at her sudden pride but is filled with trivial hope nonetheless; she’s relieved that her strained frame isn’t entirely incapable. 

Her cheeks darken, embarrassed about the situation she finds herself in as she continues to giggle over accomplishing such a simple task. In an attempt to be rid of her mirthful mindset, Alphys shakes her head, willing the sparks of determination to dissipate. The movement only leads a full smile to embrace her face, and Alphys accepts the reprieve from her daily misery. 

With a sniffle, the scientist places the fresh cup on her desk, only for it to crash on its side. Broth bleeds over her unsheltered notes like a fatal wound. The cup’s guts slosh out, some splattering onto Alphys’ toes. Her own violent shriek scathes her eardrums. Alphys fumbles to lift the plastic and its contents, using her lab coat to dry the spill. 

Heartbroken at the scene unfolding before her, helpless to damn the flood as she witnesses several documents become ruined, Alphys moans in despair. The cherry tints on her cheeks decay into a disgusting mix of ashen green and grey. Her brief gaiety fades with every word that evanesces off the pages.

Another set of rain clouds form above the Royal Scientist’s head. Alphys knows not to seek happiness, but is she seriously not allowed ten seconds of peace? Grieving her hard work, now drenched and unreadable, Alphys grows enraged. Red engulfs her vision, the world being perceived through a distorted, desaturated lens. Alphys throws the treacherous cup into her deskside trash can.

It too topples over from the strength she exerted on the already overflowing basket. Her mind dives so far off the cliff of insanity that she doesn’t hear herself scream while ripping up the wet, useless papers. Bits of the torn notes stick to Alphys’ fingertips, causing her to erupt beyond reason. They refuse to unlatch themselves when she shakes her hands. A low growl rumbles out of Alphys’ throat as if trying to intimidate the shredded remains into coming off. 

When it doesn’t seem to work, she directs her vengeful gaze to the location of this gratuitous torment. Another apoplectic roar reverberates through the lab. Alphys leans forward, bending her wrists as she prepares to flip the desk. Once the scientist curls her fingers around the edge of the table top, she spots the reason behind the spill: Through the drenched, transparent documents lies a pencil. 

Her favorite pencil, in fact, its stem pastel pink and topped with a Mew Mew Kissy Cutie eraser. When Alphys had casually placed the noodle cup on the desktop, she hadn’t seen the writing utensil lying underneath one of the many pages scattered amongst it. Because of her momentary dreamlike state after successfully removing its lid, she had accidentally placed the plastic cylinder on an occupied space, it immediately becoming unstable. 

Staring at her beloved pencil, Alphys is overwhelmed with a mix of shame and regret. As if she isn’t used to guilt. This sobering concoction quickly contorts into self-loathing, her shoulders sagging with the weight of the world. She turns to her mini fridge for a replacement cup, pushing the litter aside with an ankle. The broth oozing on Alphys’ desk is abandoned as it drips onto the floor. 

Another screech from her microwave informs Alphys of the second cup’s completed cooking cycle, though the alarm runs its nails against her brain more than it previously had a few minutes ago. Upon obtaining it, Alphys doesn’t even try to remove the lid. Instead, the scientist pokes a hole through it with her claw. A gateway forms in the top instantly from her swift stab. Alphys was set on needing only one attempt to reveal the golden oasis waiting inside. 

Something isn’t right about what she’s just done, but Alphys ignores the disconcerting nausea ebbing at her psyche. She turns to the desk again, but when the waterfall of noodles stares back, Alphys heaves her depleted body towards the stairs. She's already forgotten about her favorite pencil, now drowning within a sea of broth.

Another step pulls Alphys further away from the maddening responsibility that defines her life below. After trekking up to her bedroom, the Royal Scientist shrugs off her stained lab coat and plops onto the mattress, rubbing her cheeks into its inviting softness. At least her bed can't ever betray her or become less welcoming. Careful not to spill the second cup, Alphys inches towards the center of the bed and secures the plastic with both hands. 

She may be exhausted, but the scientist is determined not to stain her sanctuary. Her back meeting the headboard, Alphys melts into the sheets and pillows with a content sigh. The laptop is dragged forward from the edge of the comforter by her toes as she curls into the perfect sitting position. She flips it open with the intent to watch some of her favorite anime episodes again, set on avoiding reality for a short period. 

However, the crafted setup is punctured by her realizing that she didn't procure chopsticks before retreating upstairs. Too drained for any frustration to boil, Alphys merely presses her lips to the opening and slurps out its savory contents. Before the scientist can settle on what to rewatch, Alphys sinks deeper into her safe space as exhaustion guides her into oblivion. The half eaten snack rolls off of her lap and spills onto the plush carpet.

Another nightmare plagues Alphys’ blissless sleep. Enormous hands surround the Royal Scientist, their index fingers pointing at her in accusation. The floating, detached limbs creep towards Alphys, offering no means of escape, and she screams when they begin to crush her. Their nails slash at her skin. Blood rushes out of her except that it’s not blood, it’s disfigured faces and voices, voices that call Alphys’ name in heart-breaking anguish. 

Her apologies are worthless to the Amalgamates, yet the scientist continues to beg for forgiveness even when predatory hands choke Alphys because she has to, she’s so unbelievably sorry and they need to know despite it further suffocating her. They ask Alphys why and when in unison but she has no answers for them, only wasted breath. The pleas are as painful as the fingers’ compressing force, merciless in their attempt to break her–

Another scream bellows out of Alphys’ dry throat. She launches forward and covers her mouth with twitching hands, her hunched body heaving rapid, searing gasps at the monstrous dream. Rivers flow down the scientist’s face, though she doesn’t notice them until they reach the fingers damning their path. Thundering heartbeats block out the ringtone blaring from within her discarded coat’s pocket. 

Her heart slows enough that she catches the end of the Mew Mew Kissy Cutie theme song emanating from her cell phone. While the sound pushes Alphys into action, her untimely return to consciousness paired with the horrific nightmare slows her rise from bed. Consequently, she doesn't abandon the sheets soon enough to answer the call, so by the time Alphys has the phone in her hands, an UnderNet message solely occupies her lock screen. 

When she reads that it’s from the more eccentric of the two Royal Guards, Alphys immediately assumes that he’s going to offer her some Nice Cream (the sweet guard always does whenever he buys his own). She’s so certain of what the text beholds that she begins to type out a kind rejection until her eyes happen to glance over it, hands stilling. Instead of the message being filled with an adorable excess of emojis, each letter is in all caps and void of any hearts or smiles:

INFORMED BY PAPYRUS THAT A HUMAN HAS BREACHED HOTLAND. OBSERVE THEM AND WAIT FOR UNDYNE’S INSTRUCTIONS. SHE IS CURRENTLY UNREACHABLE. LAST SEEN WITH HUMAN. 

Another human...a human is in Hotland. The bedroom is omitted from view while Alphys processes the information, her stare set on the phone. Her mind spasms from blank to bursting in an instant, and once the message has been completely dissected, the scientist bolts out of the room. Nearly tripping as she stumbles to the first floor, Alphys throws herself in front of her main monitor. 

Alphys’ experienced fingers dance on the keyboard, ardent motivation flooding her veins. The anxiety that commonly causes countless errors has been transformed into exultation. Adrenaline fuels each swift, quintessential stroke, performing as if for an audience. This is it: a distraction, something to spend her days on outside of the horrific beasts agonizingly lingering like spectres in a hellish limbo for all eternity. 

Their groans haunt Alphys’ slumber, somehow appearing even more gruesome and horrifying in her dreams. Being unconscious manages to be worse than reality, allowing no escape. A chill travels up the scientist's spine as damning memories torture her yet again. Luckily, these terrifying thoughts dissipate when the screen suddenly bursts into multiple tabs, presenting various perspectives of surveillance cameras hidden among Hotland. 

Searching eyes flit across the monitor for the human's whereabouts. Alphys nibbles on her bottom lip, ready to rupture with anticipation. While she scans for the intruder, her mind zooms back to the instant message. Undyne...isn’t able to be contacted. The human must’ve encountered her upon entering Hotland, which means that, for some unfathomable reason, the warrior goddess let them go. That, or... 

Another era has passed, and a new one begins with the arrival of a different human. The concerning possibilities halt in tandem with Alphys’ flitting gaze once she locates her target. After ages of rotting away in her lab, another child has reached Hotland. The poor soul has no idea what's in store for them. Either way, Alphys’ draining depression bursts into butterflies of optimism, each of their wings varying and colorful and so beautiful. 

The concept of loneliness and self-hatred evict her mind as her face is drawn closer to the monitor. This youth is small, their chestnut hair short and shaggy with eyes hidden from view and dressed in a sweater. All of these physical attributes now belong to the scientist, and every trial that they face is hers to endure as well. Alphys is in control of this powerful soul: She is the master behind their fate, the authority to turn certain obstacles on or off given to her and her alone. 

She can briefly exist as someone entirely different while also ruling as their god. A titled smile stretches along the Royal Scientist's lips. There's a gleam in her eyes that has been absent since the last human tumbled into the Underground. Now, for hopefully a while, Alphys has someone else to follow around, to live through! This is her temporary fix, her way out of this oppressive dungeon, not far from being a morgue, that she shares with the fallen. 

Finally, Alphys has a true escape.


End file.
